It started nibbling on my spinal chord
not long ago
each day the bites get wider
tossing me into throws of
this all means nothing
or looking like my dad
while staring at the mirror hanging above the sink, It lingers

when I'm on my feet for too long
they turn red
making it hard for me to
stand for anything.
maybe my bed has a selfish plot
to keep me from ever leaving
with its sheets full of envy
forcing me to repeat defining moments
every time my mind deems it fit
to dream